


Sweat It Out

by robindrake93



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Booty Calls, Car Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93
Summary: It's hot outside, Joseph is buzzed and he wants someone to get off with. Cue Ronan.





	Sweat It Out

**Author's Note:**

> No beta on this one so forgive any mistakes.

The afternoon sun beat down on Joseph's bare shoulders. He sat on the burning hood of his white Mitsubishi with a knife in one hand. The humid Henrietta summer prompted Joseph to cut the legs off his jeans to turn them into shorts. After the deed was done, Joseph felt marginally better although every other nook of his body was still dripping with sweat. His tank top was plastered to his thin chest with it and his hair flattened to his forehead. No amount of gel would keep his hair spiked in this humidity. Joseph threw his knife into the open window.

He grabbed a beer from the cooler and rolled the ice-cold bottle against the side of his neck. The cold made his hickies ache in the sweetest way. Joseph twisted the cap and chugged half of the bottle in one go. It was cool going down, a tiny bit of relief from the agony of this summer. Vaguely, Joseph wondered if he could dream climate change away. He opened his mouth to suggest it before remembering that he was alone.

His dream pack was out selling drugs, taking school notes, and watching Ronan. They wouldn't sell to Ronan or pester him at school; provided Ronan even showed up. If Ronan wanted to get high or pick a fight, he would have to come to Joseph directly. Not that he would ever go to anyone else but sometimes Ronan liked to lie with dogs and the dogs needed to be reminded of who owned Ronan. Joseph wasn't overly worried; Ronan had been coming to him since their balls dropped. By now he knew where to find Joseph if he wanted him. And he always wanted him.

As he was alone and didn't want to be the guy who talked to birds, Joseph crawled into the back seat of his car with his beer in hand. If he could crawl under it and lay in the dirt, he would have. It was likely much cooler down there. But his car was too low to the ground for even his skinny frame to slip under. He could have wasted gas on the air conditioning but truth be told, Joseph wasn't completely sure that it would even work in this car. AC wasn't a priority for his dream cars. All he thought of was the speed.

He flopped onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. The leather seats were hot and Joseph’s thighs and shoulders stuck to them. He didn’t mind. He fished his phone from his shorts pocket and opened the camera. He set the beer bottle between his thighs then took a picture of the length of his body. His hips stood out beautifully. Joseph sent the text with a playful 'come get some.' Now it was a waiting game.

It always was with Ronan.

Joseph finished his beer and drifted in a limbo between sleep and wakefulness. The empty bottle went thunk on the floorboards. Bees buzzed, a breeze blew through the open windows, ravens called to each other from the trees. The sun didn’t quite reach him but it threatened to. If the windows were rolled up, he would likely overheat and die. The idea was tempting but he just couldn't be bothered to move. Besides, he was expecting company.

Joseph was still drifting when he heard the rumble of a BMW pull up.

The BMW's roar cut off. A car door opened and then closed. Footsteps trekked across the tall grass towards the Mitsubishi. The cooler lid creaked open and bottles clinked together. When the Mitsubishi door opened, a breeze tickled along Joseph's calves. Ronan crawled into the small space, beer bottles dragging across Joseph's skin and knees between his thighs.

Joseph told himself it was the chill of the beer that raised goosebumps on his skin. He kept his eyelids closed and his face slack. He kept his breathing even. There was nothing he could do for his heartbeat – at least not without giving himself away – so Joseph just had to hope that Ronan wouldn't look in the hollow of his throat to see it skittering away.

Ronan tucked the beer bottles high between Joseph's thighs. Fingertips traced over the goosebumps this produced and Ronan made a noise that Joseph could only interpret as satisfied. His hands came up to press on the seat on either side of Joseph's head. Arched as he was, his spine brushed against the roof of the car. Ronan lowered his face until their mouths were only inches apart. “Even you wouldn't sleep through cold beer between your legs, Kavinsky,” Ronan's voice was low and rough.

Joseph made a noise that was meant to mean shut up and go away but came out more like a whine. He looked up at Ronan through his lashes, only small details coming into focus when they were this close. A scab on his lip from where Kavinsky had bitten him a few days ago. Greenish bruising dusted around his right eye from a kick to the face several weeks ago. His gaze lowered to view Ronan's pulse point, the spot where his quick heartbeat always gave him away. Joseph lifted his head enough to give Ronan's throat a peck then let it drop back onto the seat. “You took your time, fag.”

Ronan's responding growl sounded for all the world indifferent. He sat back on his haunches, twisted open one of the beer bottles and took a long swig.

Joseph's eyes were glued to the column of Ronan's throat. All angles were good for viewing Ronan but this one in particular was lovely. He took the other beer bottle from between his thighs and propped himself up on his elbows to drink it. His eyes stayed on Ronan the entire time.

Ronan stopped drinking only when the bottle was empty, because somehow it had turned into something of a competition. Carelessly he dropped the bottle onto the floor, where it clanked loudly against the one already there.

For a moment the birds stopped talking.

Joseph chugged the beer, breathing through his nose. He watched Ronan watching him. After consuming the last drop, Joseph pulled the bottle away with a pop. He let it fall and once again the birds were silenced in the face of the noise. “You just gonna sit there or you gonna do something?”

At the challenge, Ronan's eyes went dark. He shifted between Joseph's thighs so that they were pressed hip to hip, stomach to stomach. “I think I'm just going to sit here.” A dare.

Joseph was notorious for having little self control. He was a few beers in, a few pills from this morning still running through his system. A tiny part of him told him that he should just wait Ronan out, break him. It was ruled out by the jerk of his hips and his arms reaching to pull all of Ronan's weight on top of him. “Cock tease,” he purred.

Ronan moved, just a subtle little twitch of his hips. “Stop calling me names.” He mouthed at Joseph's neck, parted lips merely teasing the sensitive skin there.

“Sure thing, princess,” Joseph snapped back. He fisted the fabric of Ronan's tank top, clawed it up so that he could get at the bare skin beneath. His palms glided across sweat-slicked skin, over the thick muscle and knobs of vertebra.

Ronan tensed beneath Joseph’s hands. He wiggled out of the shirt and out of Joseph’s grasp. 

Joseph didn’t get what Ronan’s damage was. There was a religious upbringing, sure, but Ronan had a support system and people who loved him unconditionally. The lucky bastard. An image of his father with bloodied knuckles flashed before Joseph’s eyes and he pulled Ronan closer again, hooked his legs around Ronan’s waist, to get rid of the memory. Don’t worry, you fixed that problem. No one is going to take a boy away from you again. 

“You’re so fucking clingy,” Ronan said. Despite the fire in his words, Ronan didn’t move away this time. He pressed his forehead to Joseph’s. His ocean eyes stared into Joseph’s black ones. 

They breathed the same air. Joseph’s heart skipped a beat. He ran his palms over the stubble on Ronan’s scalp. “You like clingy.” Ronan didn’t like clingy. He did like keeping all of his people close to him though and that was close enough for Joseph. Joseph tilted his head and lifted his chin for a kiss. 

Ronan tasted like beer. His tongue slid past Joseph’s lips. It became less of a kiss and more like being devoured as he was all lips and teeth and tongue. Ronan’s canines split Joseph’s lip, his tongue was there to swipe up the blood. Hands found Joseph’s hips and squeezed the bones hard. 

Joseph bucked his hips up, tightened his legs around Ronan’s waist to drag him down. He licked every trace of beer from Ronan’s mouth, kissed sweetly where Ronan was brutal. His nails traced lazy patterns on Ronan’s shoulder blades, ilked out invisible tattoos to brand Ronan. The shorts he’d made were getting uncomfortable between the sweat and friction. Joseph slipped a hand between them and popped the button on his shorts. 

Ronan had Joseph’s shorts down to his thighs before Joseph could make another move. He paused his devouring of Joseph’s mouth to look at Joseph. It was something like admiration and adoration that Ronan looked at Joseph with...if both of those things involved a desire to burn the artwork to the ground. He brushed his scarred knuckles across Joseph’s flat stomach. 

Joseph’s stomach fluttered beneath the touch. He held his breath as he nudged Ronan’s hand lower. There was only so much looking he could take. 

Ronan’s hand fisted around Joseph’s cock. Sweat slicked his palm. 

Joseph’s eyes fluttered closed and his hips rolled up into Ronan’s hand. A rough moan pulled itself from his throat. The longer the two of them were together, the less Joseph cared about keeping up an indifferent front. Being with Ronan felt as good as a knife twisting into his heart. 

Ronan wore indifference better than Joseph did; or at least for longer. Every time they came together, his cold exterior needed to be thawed out. He gave Joseph’s cock a few rough strokes. 

Joseph enjoyed the feeling. Then he went to chase his own pleasure. He made short work of Ronan’s jeans, used both his hands and his heels to shove them down to Ronan’s knees. Arousal spiked through him at the sight of Ronan’s hip bones and his erect cock. His mouth watered. "красив,” he breathed. 

Bulgarian was one of the languages that Ronan didn’t speak but Joseph’s tone was unmistakable. He didn’t say anything because silence worked best for Ronan. The only acknowledgment was the swipe of his thumb over the wet head of Joseph’s cock. 

Joseph shivered. Precum beaded at the slit of his cock. He reached between them, grasped Ronan’s cock in a tight grip. 

Ronan hissed between his teeth; his only protest. Rough was what did it for them. He striped Joseph’s cock with practiced motions. His ocean eyes were dark, stormy. Ronan surged down to plant a kiss on the corner of Joseph’s mouth. Always such a tease, even with Joseph’s cock in his hand. 

The ravens outside cawed loudly to each other, excited. 

Not to be outdone, Joseph scraped his nails lightly along the length of Ronan’s cock. He panted and writhing on the backseat beneath Ronan. Joseph just wanted to rub off on Ronan, nice and easy and frantic but Ronan kept up his brutal pace. He was pretty sure that he’s sweating everything out of his system in the confined heat of the car. By the time this is over, Joseph is going to be sober and the thought made him bark out a laugh. His balls drew closer to his body as his orgasm approached. “You in a hurry?” 

This time Ronan did kiss him, deep and hungry. He stole the breath from Joseph’s lungs. When he pulled back, the blue of his irises was a thin line around blown out pupils. “The ravens are thinking of eating you.” His hand slowed only slightly before picking up speed again. As the sun shifted positions and shone through the window, sweat made his skin glisten ethereally, as though Ronan was not part of the natural world. This would not surprise Joseph. 

Joseph swallowed down the whimper when Ronan broke the kiss. His mind was too fuzzy to make sense of whatever nonsense Ronan was spewing about ravens. With his free hand, he sank his nails into the meat of Ronan’s ass. “C’mere. I wanna blow you.” 

It took some maneuvering. A lot of maneuvering, actually. Joseph wiggled down further, scrunched his legs up against the car. Ronan moved up, knees on either side of Joseph's head. The maneuvering meant that neither of them were touching each other’s dicks, which was a tragedy, and also meant that Joseph wasn’t on the edge of cumming anymore. 

Ronan’s cock slid into Joseph’s waiting mouth like it was meant to be there - it was - and Ronan moaned. 

Joseph echoed the sound around Ronan’s cock. He sucked greedily at it, technique briefly forgotten at the fierce satisfaction of having that weight on his tongue. His eyelids fluttered, torn between wanting to close his eyes in bliss and watch Ronan. 

Ronan thrust into his mouth with no hesitation. He didn’t care if Joseph gagged on his cock. He did that a few times before bending his body at an impossible angle to reach around and keep stroking Joseph. That was progress. When they first started this, Ronan chased only his own pleasure and Joseph had to manipulate him into giving what Joseph needed. Ronan’s hand stuttered - his wrist had to be killing him - but he was getting Joseph there regardless. 

Joseph always got off when it was Ronan with him. He focused his efforts, wanted to make Ronan cum the same time he did. As far as blow jobs went, it was sloppy and Ronan tasted saltier than usual. Both of Joseph’s hands cupped Ronan’s ass hard enough to leave bruises of his fingerprints. 

When Ronan came, he did so quietly. The only noise was a shattered little moan that endeared him to Joseph more than Joseph cared for. He shuddered as he gripped the window ledge with his free hand and came down Joseph’s throat. 

The warm, salty taste filled Joseph’s mouth. Like a good boy, a devious boy, Joseph swallowed. Ronan didn’t fuck with anyone but him - and Gansey, a nasty voice in his head reminded him - so Joseph never worried about catching anything. While Ronan was boneless and his hand still, Joseph shifted the other boy back. He slid his cock between Ronan’s ass cheeks and focused on cumming. 

It only took a few moments. Joseph came on Ronan’s skin with an obscene moan. Part of him was satisfied that Ronan would have to go home smelling like Joseph and sex. Joseph kept his eyes closed and loosened his hold on Ronan’s hips. He panted and thought about quitting smoking, knowing he never would. 

Ronan wouldn’t stay. Not here, not only one beer in. He got his fix and now he would leave. Joseph knew this and it came as no surprise when Ronan’s weight left him but it still twisted Joseph’s heart. 

Stupid fucking feelings. 

Joseph stayed where he was sprawled on the back seat with his own cum splashed over his stomach. Something about that seemed wrong but he didn’t want to think about it or anything else right now. He threw an arm over his eyes. The heavy weight of sleep pulled him under. 

By the time Joseph opened his eyes, the sky was streaked with the yellow of the setting sun. The Mitsubishi’s windows were open but the car still smelled overwhelmingly of sweat, sex, and booze. Joseph peeled himself off the backseat and winced as the leather pulled at his skin. His mouth tasted like shit, which wasn’t actually that out of the ordinary. 

Ronan was long gone. The black BMW was nowhere to be heard. As Joseph had swallowed, there was no sign of Ronan ever having been there. 

Joseph wiped the dry cum off his stomach the best he could before flopping onto his stomach. Nausea rolled over him but Joseph rode it out without retching all over his floor. His bleary eyes scanned the mess of beer bottles and miscellaneous trash on the floor until he found his phone. There was no message from Ronan but trying to get him to text back was like trying to pull teeth. Joseph called him a rude name via text before dropping his phone back on the floor. He ignored the messages and missed calls from his Dream Pack. 

With ungainly limbs, Joseph crawled out of the back seat and stumbled out of the car when his legs didn’t want to hold his weight. Joseph stumbled a few feet away from the car before managing to turn around and fall against the hood again. The cooler was by his feet, the ice long melted and the beer lukewarm. Joseph didn’t much care. He didn’t drink beer because he liked it. After securing a bottle, Joseph fell against the hood of his car and leaned against the windshield. He twisted the cap off and took a long drink. The beer washed out some of the taste in his mouth. 

Joseph stared up at the treeline and remembered something about ravens wanting to eat him. He pressed his fingers to the old hickies on his neck and mentally dared them to do it. “Do it, you dumb birds. Just fucking kill me.” He wasn’t drunk but his words slurred. Sobriety was not kind to Joseph. Joseph nursed his beer, closed his eyes, and tried to chase the feeling of Ronan’s hands on him. The memory was difficult to pull up and for some reason, Ronan’s hand felt like his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Did Ronan actually show up or is it all just wank from Kavinsky's drug-idled mind? Who knows? ;)
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment.


End file.
